


All in This Together

by adi_rotynd



Category: Glee
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Friendship, Gen, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-11
Updated: 2011-12-11
Packaged: 2017-10-27 04:45:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,719
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/291760
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/adi_rotynd/pseuds/adi_rotynd
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For a prompt. It’s sad when two people who used to be best friends stop getting along, so Brittany helps Finn and Puck fix their relationship. By handcuffing them together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	All in This Together

**Author's Note:**

> Enjoy, and by all means comment should it strike your fancy, my best beloveds.~

**Spoilers:** Up to 2.18.  
 **Warnings:** Homophobia.  
 **Disclaimer:** RIB and FOX own everything ever.  
 **Beta:** rdm_ation on LJ

 

People didn’t know this about Brittany, but she could actually be super crafty. Everyone thought she was dumb, but really, she could tell a lot of things about people, and also she could come up with plans and execute them. It was a little sad to have to execute a perfectly good plan, but Santana said that was what they were for, so Brittany wasn’t supposed to get worked up about it.

So anyway, she could tell things, and she could tell that Puck and Finn missed each other. She felt super bad for them. It was always really sad when there were two people who used to be closer than anybody, but one of them did something mean and they had a fight over it and then they weren’t as close anymore so they were both lonely and cold inside. And like, one of them wasn’t really smart and had trouble in class a lot and didn’t always understand when people were making fun of them, and they were popular so they were supposed to be able to do all this stuff but they really couldn’t. So it was a lot easier when they were with the other person all the time, because the other person was badass and could take care of things that were too complicated or scary for the first person. It was so sad that Brittany cried about it sometimes.

She had a plan to deal with it, though.

The worst part of this problem with Santana was that even when they were not-cheating together, it was still like Santana wasn’t there, because she wouldn’t talk about it, so it wasn’t like they ever made up. They just pretended to be okay, and it never really made the bad things go away. For the first time in her life, Brittany felt lonely even when she was _with_ Santana. Brittany just really didn’t want that for anyone else.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Finn’s plans for the evening, after this bogus glee club performance for a nursing home, began and ended with the word “Quinn” and those plans did not include handcuffs. Like, not unless he got _really_ lucky.

He guessed that was just part of the whole Best Laid Plans of Mice and Men thing Kurt always talked about when stuff went wrong. He didn’t know what mice had to do with anything, but that was Kurt for you.

So basically, this was what he got for responding to a text from Brittany – even if the text did begin with _emergency!!!_ and end with _now <3_. What he got was to be standing alone in an empty classroom when Puck and Quinn walked in.

“Where is everyone?” he asked, waving his phone. “I thought we had an emergency meeting.”

“Yeah, funny thing. Quinn didn’t get the text.” Puck shrugged.

 _But you told her,_ Finn thought, and the part of him that dealt with _Puck and Quinn_ as a unit twisted because what were they even doing together, why had Quinn been there for Puck to tell?

“I’d like to know who put Brittany in charge of calling emergency meetings for glee club,” said Quinn, hovering near the door.

“Oh, crap,” Finn said, because she wasn’t and never would be; Rachel _loved_ that duty. He wasn’t sure what he expected to happen – maybe some revenge scheme from the football team for having been forced into glee for a week – but it wasn’t what actually happened.

“Busted,” said Brittany, popping up from behind the teacher’s desk. “Totally not a real glee meeting. Here, you guys.” She skipped over to Finn and pushed him closer to Puck. “Check this out.” She took her left hand out from behind her back, dangling a pair of handcuffs. This fact took a while to process, and by the time Finn was done processing it, he was locked to Puck at the wrist.

“Dude,” he said.

“The _hell_ ,” Puck agreed.

Quinn, unhelpfully, let out a startled yelp of laughter and then stepped aside to allow Brittany to run at top speed from the room. “What just happened? Are those real?”

Puck yanked on his cuff, which pulled Finn’s and dug into his wrist. It wasn’t super heavy, but it was cold and felt weirdly sharp for something with more curves than edges. “They’re real,” Finn said.

“No way.” Puck yanked on the cuffs again. “Lauren will break up with me if I’m walking around chained to someone else. This is so uncool.”

“I’ll get Brittany back,” Quinn said. “Don’t go anywhere, you two.” She chuckled and headed in a general Brittany-went-this-way direction, not nearly fast enough for Finn.

“We’re doomed,” Finn said. “She probably swallowed the key like in spy movies. Azimio will actually kill us when he sees this.”

“Nah, we could totally take him. Lauren might curb-stomp you, though, not gonna lie.”

“Dude, you cannot let your girlfriend kill me! How do you know she won’t kill _you_?”

“She might.” Puck just sounded turned on.

“Who _are_ you right now?”

“Bad news, boys.” Quinn slipped back in, still smiling. “I can’t find Brittany.”

Finn swallowed. “Yeah, well, cool. We’ll just… ask around.”

“Braver man than me,” Puck said.

Finn bristled. “Yeah, I am. And you’re coming with me, bro, remember?” He pulled on the chain between them, possibly harder than was strictly necessary, but Puck had already done it twice to him.

“Relax,” Quinn laughed. “Trust me, Puck, Lauren will think you chained to a guy is hot.”

Puck raised an eyebrow, but shrugged and headed for the door. “I’m holding you to that.”

Finn held back, bunching the chain in his hand in an attempt to protect his wrist, which was already feeling oversensitive. “What, just like that?”

“Dude, it was your idea.”

“Well, maybe I don’t want to be your bait to get your girlfriend going.”

“Fine, we’ll hide in here all day.” Puck shook his head, gesturing to the classroom. “That’s a great idea, Finn.”

Quinn had a hand over her mouth. “Yes. You stay here alone for hours, chained together.” Her eyes sparkled. “I can only think of nineteen different ways for that to backfire.”

“Right. No, you’re right.” Finn braced himself. It was great to make Quinn laugh and all, but this was pretty unimpressive boyfriend behavior, and it had to end, like, minutes ago. Especially if she was already randomly showing up places with Puck.

“Good,” Puck said. “Well, if Finnocence here is feeling up to it now, let’s go and ask Artie. Maybe he knows where his girlfriend is.”

Quinn touched Finn’s shoulder, warm and close, her perfume wafting over him. “Lauren’s not the only one,” she whispered, and grinned wickedly.

 _Oh. Okay_ , Finn thought, and, oddly, felt braver.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Puck showed them to the calculus class he was missing and snagged Artie on his way out. “Yo, Artie,” Puck said as he grabbed his chair; Artie looked only mildly panicked before recognizing Puck. “Where’s your girlfriend?”

Artie stared at them, or at the chain clinking between them, and pushed his glasses up his nose. “I… um, I’m not sure right this second. Did she start another fashion trend I need to know about? Because it’s going to be really awkward to be chained to someone so much higher than I am, but I bet I could talk Sam into it.”

“No, she did this to us,” Finn said quickly, glancing Quinn’s way at the mention of Sam’s name. “As… like, a joke or something. I don’t get it, though, and we kind of need the key, so…”

“Oh.” Mollified, Artie settled back into his chair. “I really don’t know where she is right this second – hey, Santana!”

She deigned to slow in her progress down the hallway, only stopping outright when she saw Puck and Finn. “Boys,” she said, sashaying over, “I’m so glad you decided to come out of the closet _together_. It’s inspiring, really. So does Finn get to top because he’s taller, or Puck because he has normal nipples, or what? How do you work that out?”

“You’re just pissed my girlfriend can beat your ass,” Puck said smugly.

“I’ve started coming to school armed,” Santana said. “It was a once-off. Anyway, what do you want, Super Choice?”

“It’s Brittany,” Quinn said.

“She handcuffed Finn and Puck together,” Artie continued, “so they need her for the key. Could you get her? I thought, since you always know where she is…”

Santana _looked_ at Artie, who looked straight back. Finn’s respect for Artie went up by a fair bit; if Santana had stared at him like that, no way could he have held it. Then she turned on her heel. “I don’t know where she is,” she tossed over her shoulder, already halfway gone.

Artie grimaced. “I think she took that wrong.”

Quinn patted Finn’s arm. “I’d better go talk to her,” she said. “It’s two-thirty, guys.”

“So?” Puck looked around at the rapidly filling hallway and growled at a freshman who seemed on the verge of laughing at their predicament.

“We have football practice,” Artie said gently just before his phone buzzed.

“Doomed,” Finn murmured.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Finn and Puck’s entrance into the locker room was greeted with a silence and blank gazes. “Oh, what the hell,” protested Azimio finally. “I am not trying to play this game with these two fairies doing some sex thing on my field.”

“Back off,” Finn snapped.

“No, I think you two need to back off,” Strando said, “as in off this team. This is getting beyond embarrassing.”

Finn glared. “This is such garbage. You all had just as much fun singing as anyone else, and it was why we won the championship! And you’re still on about every little thing.”

“This isn’t a little thing,” Azimio said firmly. “This is two dudes with a sex toy in my locker room.”

Puck slammed a locker for emphasis, barely missing Azimio’s fingers. “Don’t think I didn’t learn how to crush a man’s windpipe in two seconds flat using these,” he said, hoisting Finn’s wrist up by the cuff.

Strando looked momentarily uncertain, but Karofsky scoffed audibly, and Strando smacked his arm. “Maybe we’ll test that out.”

Karofsky gaped. “I didn’t –”

“Don’t be a girl. Puckerman’s full of it.”

Finn thought they could take Strando, but not both of them together – and if Karofsky joined in, Azimio would as well. He retreated to the safest place he knew, which was one where Puck was feared. “Why do you think his probation’s so long? He almost killed a guy in juvie.”

 

“Dude looked at me wrong,” Puck agreed, glowering.

“I’ll bet.” Strando stepped closer. “You’re _over_ , Puckerman. No one’s scared of your show-choir singing, wrestler-banging, cripple-friending, whipped ass.”

“Prove it.” Puck matched his step forward.

“Not a problem,” Azimio said, squaring off as well.

Finn braced himself. Fine, so the invocation of Puck’s name was no longer enough on its own to salvage a situation. He’d been doing a lot of thinking about all this lately himself. “You know what?” he said. “Shut up, all of you. Coach Sylvester is right about some of the kids at this school, and they’re all _you_. You’re ignorant, you’re wastes of space, and you’re going to be fry cooks or run a chain dollar store and feel good when you put some mom and pop operation out of business because you finally _won_ at something again. Puck and I are willing to stick our necks out in order to make more of ourselves, and that’s why –”

“Finn!” screeched Rachel. Who was suddenly there. In front of him. In the boys’ locker room. With boys in it.

“Rachel, I _told_ you,” he hissed as boys in varying states of undress dove for cover, “you can’t just come in here, remember?”

“This is an emergency,” she said. “Everyone, I’m not looking! None of you are nearly as appealing as you think you are! I’m here strictly on business.” She shoved a piece of paper in Finn’s face. “Look at this!”

Finn stared, slightly cross-eyed, and Puck reached over and took it. “What the hell,” he said.

In shaky, cut-out newsprint, the note read, _Brittany Spierce is kidnapped. Only Finn and Puck can save her. Check phone._

“Oh my god.” Finn looked at Rachel. “Brittany’s been kidnapped?”

“Finn! That’s not the emergency.”

“The emergency is I’m telling the principal how many people are in here peeking at our junk and then my dad is suing this damn place,” Azimio called from behind a locker. “Would you get your midget girlfriend out of here, Hudson?”

“Shut up! And she’s not my girlfriend.”

“The emergency is that we need Brittany back in time for our performance at Sliding Hills Nursing Home, and the note says only you and Puck can do it.” Rachel grabbed his arm with one hand and Puck’s with the other, gazing soulfully into each of their eyes in turn. “Puck, Finn – only you can save glee club.”

Finn sighed. “Let’s take this outside, okay?”

“Not like this is my idea of a plan I want to stick around for,” Puck said as they herded Rachel out, “but what about calling the cops?”

“Oh, Noah, really,” Rachel huffed. Finn tried to remember whether anyone else called Puck “Noah,” or if that was just _their thing_. “She hasn’t actually been kidnapped. This is some elaborate ruse, no doubt connected with her chaining you two together. I’m sure it all makes perfect sense to her.”

“So you’re not even worried about Brittany,” Finn said. “How is this an emergency?”

“Did you not hear me say that we have a performance this evening? What if Brittany persists in her idiotic scheme until it’s too late? She’s supposed to dance around me while I sing, Finn. I need you to do this for me.”

Finn clenched his jaw, eyes darting sideways to Puck. It wasn’t like he could ask for privacy. “I’m not your boyfriend, Rachel.”

Rachel looked stricken as only she could by a statement of fact. “But we, we’re co-captains,” she said, “of New Directions, and –”

“We’ll take care of it,” Puck said. He shrugged at Finn. “Girl’s got the key. I vote we find her sooner instead of later. So what’s this about checking our phones?”

Rachel smiled hesitantly, eyes darting between them. “Yes, I – yes. Exactly! It’s, um… mutually beneficial…” she looked down at the note. “So here.” She shoved it into Puck’s hand. “It was in my locker. The part about the phone was for me. I got this text from Brittany’s phone about the same time.” She retrieved her phone and held it out.

 _tell them 2 go were they thru eggs @ u_

“What?” said Puck.

“Oh,” said Finn. “She wants us to look where we… that time we threw eggs at Rachel…”

“So the parking lot? She couldn’t just say that?”

“I would have been happier with that myself,” Rachel said stiffly. “While not as emotionally scarring as my incident with Jesse, it was humiliating and disgusting and I prefer not to think about it.” She lowered her eyes. “I also prefer not to remember that you two were involved.”

“Yeah, that sucked,” Finn muttered.

“Totally my idea,” Puck said. “My bad, princess.”

“Yes, well,” Rachel sniffed. “As Finn said, he’s not my boyfriend, so this isn’t my problem. Unless you don’t find her in time for our performance.” She glared a warning, then spun and, Rachel-like, stormed away. Finn really didn’t miss that, except for how, suddenly, he did.

“Seriously, that _was_ your idea,” Finn said, and regretted it.

“Excuse me for being inventive,” Puck snapped. “We gonna try to find Brittany before my girlfriend finds us, or do you want to get your ass kicked?”

“Okay,” Finn said, and started toward the parking lot, clanking softly. “Dude, what’s… _with_ you and Lauren? I don’t get it.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“She just isn’t your usual type. You don’t usually go for the ones you have to chase.”

“I had to chase Quinn,” Puck said, “no offense. Didn’t you, this time?”

“That’s not the same.”

“Okay, dude.” Puck shoved the door open and a blast of cold air hit them. “What are we looking for exactly?”

“That, probably.” Finn started toward Artie, who was sitting alone in the parking space Rachel had been using the day they egged her. He was being swallowed by a puffy coat bigger than he was and waving energetically.

“Artie! My main man.” Puck picked up his pace, yanking Finn behind him. “You got any info on this Brittany situation for us, bro?”

“Yo!” Artie held out his hand for a high five; Puck complied, digging the increasingly cold cuff into Finn’s wrist. “I’m freezing my ass off right now, so yeah, I am out here for a good reason.” He considered this. “Well, _a_ reason.”

“Drop it on us, dude,” Puck said.

“Yeah, what is it?” said Finn, who was the one who had saved Artie from Puck’s roll-the-port-a-potty plot, and the one who had gotten kicked off the football team trying to help Artie get on, although apparently that kind of thing didn’t compare to trapping him into a dine-and-dash and giving him awful advice on girls, given how buddy-buddy he and Puck were.

“Well, this is going to be really awkward, and I wouldn’t bring it up, out of deference to my own continued safety and to your valiant attempts at reformation, but remember that time you pushed me down the stairs while Finn stood guard?”

“Sure,” Puck said.

“You’re supposed to go there next. To those stairs.” Artie shrugged. “I had explicit instructions to only specify the stairs as the ones involved in that incident. Sorry.”

“It’s cool.” Puck fist-bumped him. “Later, dude. We should get on that.”

“We’re sorry,” Finn called over his shoulder as Puck dragged him off.

Artie waved and smiled.

“You could apologize,” Finn snapped, letting the door slam behind them.

“That’s not me, bro.”

“Right. How’s that part of being Puck working out for you?”

Puck glared over at him. “Like being Finn Hudson has done you so many favors.”

“I didn’t say I was perfect, but you know what? Yeah, being capable of an apology has done me some good in my life.”

“How’s not being able to accept one treating you? Because we both know Rachel’s sorry, but you wouldn’t give her the time of day after she slipped up.”

“ _Really_ , dude? You want to play Rachel’s knight in shining armor to me over _that_? She was upset and you took advantage of her! Just like you did with Quinn –”

“Who’s taking advantage of Rachel Berry and how can I get it on tape?” Jacob Ben Israel leered at them from the top of the stairs. “The public has a right to know.”

“You have got to be kidding me,” Puck said.

“Are you waiting for us?” Finn asked, looking hopefully behind him. Brittany could be pretty hard-ass sometimes, and some of that by accident, but not even her cruel streak or thoughtlessness could excuse forcing them to spend face time with this creep. There had to be someone else here. Maybe a celebrity guest star or something, someone whose autograph he could get; that would be cool.

Unfortunately – “Thanks to twenty bucks and a date with the Cheerio of my choosing, yes I am.” Jacob aimed his camera at them and pressed something. “Would either of you like to comment on the rumor that you staged this whole thing as an excuse to have a foursome with misses Fabray and Zizes?”

“I could comment on the rumor that you were found unconscious in a stairwell with your camera missing,” Finn offered. “Just tell us whatever Brittany told you.”

“How about the rumor that this began as a plan to instigate a threesome with Rachel Berry but quickly morphed into a way to explore your mutual forbidden lust, leaving Rachel brokenhearted and in desperate need of a shoulder to cry on?” insisted Jacob, who did, Finn had to admit, have a lot of physical courage for someone who cowered so much.

Puck sighed and grabbed the camera away. “Tell us where to go next or I’ll smash this thing.”

“And wind up back in juvie for destruction of school property?” Jacob licked his lips, eyes darting. “I don’t think so.”

“You don’t seriously want to draw this out,” Finn said. “Just give it up.”

“I have an obligation to my public,” Jacob said, reaching for his camera.

Finn snatched it, reaching awkwardly across Puck with his free hand to do so, and held it above his head. “I’m not on the shortlist for juvie, so spill.”

“You’re supposed to go to the pole you tied me to in my underwear last November,” Jacob caved, bouncing on his toes, “an incident the nature of which I now question, in light of your homoerotic exploration of bondage. Now give me back my camera!”

“I thought it was the school’s camera.”

“I exaggerated.”

“Huh.” Finn let go.

Jacob squealed and dove, mercifully putting some distance between his overactive sweat glands and Finn’s nose. Finn was kind of glad he caught it, even, although also that it looked like he’d skinned his elbows.

“Very nice,” Jacob said, rolling over with the camera clutched to his chest. “This is all going straight onto my blog. Before you leave, Puckerman, would you care to comment on my theory that you have ceased to be relevant as a person ever since Finn Hudson started outdoing you in terms of cruelty?” He scrambled shakily to his feet. “I mean, the only thing you’ve ever been better at than Finn is being worse than Finn. What’s left for you now?”

“Screw you,” Puck said. There wasn’t much fire behind it.

“Be seeing you later, Jacob,” Finn said with a wide, toothy smile.

Jacob paled and fled.

“Do you remember that show _Do-Over_?” Finn asked as they headed by unspoken agreement to the football field.

“No.”

“This is kind of like that.” Finn considered. “Only without the chance to do anything over.”

“Would you seriously take back anything we’ve done to that little sleaze?”

“Well… maybe not to _him_ ,” Finn conceded.

“Dude.” Puck pointed across the field. “Jackpot!”

Brittany was balanced on the crosspiece of the goalpost they had tied Jacob to, swinging her legs idly and looking like an angel of mercy, if angels didn’t have wings or halos and wore cheerleader outfits. Finn would pay a lot more attention in church, if that were that the case.

“Finally,” Finn breathed. They took off in her direction, chain rattling between them and occasionally snapping taught when they got out of sync, stinging Finn’s wrist. They stumbled to a halt at the foot of the pole.

“Brittany,” Finn called up, “this is so uncool. We played along, now give us the key.”

“Like you had even a little bit of a choice,” Brittany said. “My plan was flawless, and you guys were like rats in my maze.”

“If you give us the key,” Puck offered nobly, “I’ll make out with you.”

“I’ve never told you this, but you suck at making out.”

“That’s bullshit! Lauren’s been working on my technique, anyway. I’ve got loads of sweet new moves.”

“Really?” Brittany leaned forward, hooking her legs under the bar. She frowned. “No, it would be wrong.”

“I bet Lauren and Artie would be down if they could watch.”

“It’s wrong for the scientist to take advantage of the lab rats, though. Don’t you watch any of the movies about this?” Brittany shook her head sadly. “Anyway, you can have the key.”

Finn gave a sigh of relief. He was getting a crick in his neck from looking up at her.

“As soon as you tell me something.” Brittany leaned forward again, which was making him dizzy. “Are you two best friends again now, or what?”

 _“I’m your best friend. Talk.”_

Puck looked over at him, Finn saw from the corner of his eye. He didn’t look back.

Brittany chewed on a fingernail. “Are things back the way they were?”

 _“We used to be best friends.”_

“No,” Finn said. “They’re not.” Puck’s face fell. “Come on, guys, we have to put on a performance, remember?”

“Fine.” Brittany hopped down, landing lightly on her feet despite the drop, and reached down her top. “Oh.” She fished around, Finn’s eyes following her hand with religious devotion, then shrugged. “I guess I left the key in my other bra. Well, no big deal. I’ll bring it in tomorrow.”

“Britt,” Finn managed, “could you please get it now?”

“Nope. I’m sleeping over at Santana’s. I’m not going home until tomorrow. Sorry.”

“Oh, man,” Puck protested. “Rachel’s going to kill you! And then us. How are we supposed to do this performance with our male lead chained to our bad-boy backup?”

Brittany blinked at them. “You guys are making such a big deal out of this. You have to stand within a foot of your own best friend. Unless one of you hasn’t showered in a while, why would you even want that to stop?”

Finn shook his head. “Whoa. That’s it.”

Puck raised an eyebrow. “Oh boy, Finn’s having a thought.”

“Do you guys trust me?”

Brittany reached out and took his hand. “Yes…?”

“Why do you sound so hesitant?”

She frowned. “Aren’t we quoting _Aladdin_?”

Puck sighed. “I’ve got your back.”

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Because Kurt and Rachel were very driven people, the entirety of New Directions had assembled on the stage in the auditorium twenty minutes later.

Finn stood facing them, flanked by Puck (because of necessity) and Kurt (because he had insisted on a directorial position in return for racing over to McKinley after a full day at Dalton). “We’re going to change up the routine for tonight a little bit,” Finn announced.

“Are you serious, King Tut? I worked my ass off learning these steps,” Santana snapped.

“Okay, no you didn’t, because they were easy even for me,” Finn said, “and I didn’t say the _dance_. I said the routine. Puck and I have a little problem we need to compensate for, and I know I can count on all of you to support us.”

Kurt smiled with some malice. “You guys are learning a whole new song and dance.”

“Oh, _hell_ no,” said Mercedes, at the head of a group-wide protest, and apparently in enough of a hurry to leave out “to the”; Finn wondered how bad a sign that was.

“Come on, guys!” Puck smacked his hands together (Finn couldn’t call it clapping when Puck did it). “We did this for a _competition_ , we can sure as hell do it well enough to fool some old geezers. Plus, this way we can scrap that part where we all kind of kneel down around Rachel.”

“That is a metaphor,” Rachel said.

Mercedes had perked up before Puck even finished his sentence. “Well, now it’s not. I’m with Finn on this one. Let’s start over.”

Finn nodded; as Mercedes went, so went New Directions, usually. He just needed to keep up their steam. “Okay, guys! Puck and I have a plan. Kurt is helping us out.”

Kurt swung back the lid on the box he’d brought in. “Behold, your new costumes.” He dangled a pair of plastic handcuffs from his fingers. “Pair up!”

“ _That’s_ what he was getting?” Puck eyed Kurt with new respect. “You are one kinky little dude.”

Kurt stared blankly back. “They’re from the drama club. Anyway, they’re handcuffs.”

“Like I said. Sexy.”

“Really, Puckerman, what could handcuffs possibly have to do with –”

“Let’s get to work!” Finn interjected, a little desperately. “Kurt, would you…?”

“On it!” Kurt skipped over to the portable CD player he’d brought and hit play. “Stand by Me” started blasting, and Kurt’s smile became outright vindictive. “You guys are going to have so much fun,” he said fondly.

Lauren, who had yet to curb stomp Finn but also hadn’t directly addressed the issue, sighed. She grabbed a pair of handcuffs with one hand and Rachel with the other. “I call her. Figure it’s my best shot at staying front and center.”

“But I –” said Rachel.

“Shhh.” Lauren patted her gently on the head.

Brittany, giggling, handcuffed herself to Artie. Quinn headed Sam’s way. Finn was equal parts annoyed and, given the dance he had planned, pleased.

“Excuse _me_ ,” Santana said. “Who am I supposed to get with?”

Mercedes looked around at everyone else, already paired off, and groaned.

Mike shook his head. “Ohhh, this is going to go well.”

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

“That went well,” said a little old lady, tottering up to Finn and patting his arm. “I especially liked the way that dark-haired girl escaped from her cuff and kept trying to steal everyone’s partners away – when they weren’t straying toward someone else’s partner on their own. Ain’t it the truth? I once cut my husband’s finger off when he came home smelling of another woman’s perfume. At least I think it was his finger.”

“That was the dance,” said Quinn, tugging at her plastic cuff. “It wasn’t real or anything. It was just the dance.”

“Yeah, I mean, we’re not actually _partners_.” Finn gestured toward Puck. “And Santana doesn’t actually want to make out with Rachel. I don’t think.”

“That was so hot,” Puck said. He hadn’t recovered his breath since the incident. “Did you see Lauren chase her off? Do you think we could convince them to do that again, but with Santana and Rachel making out for longer first?”

“This is why you should never talk to the artists about their work,” the little old lady sighed, and tottered away again.

“Do you think we might get in trouble for doing an overtly sexual rendition of ‘Stand by Me’ – complete with homoerotic subtext so blatant it became the actual text – for a nursing home?” Artie asked.

“No,” Finn said. “But let’s leave quickly.”

“Right.” Artie spun around and made a militaristic gesture. “Move out, people!”

“Well done,” Kurt said, joining Finn and Puck as they beat a retreat toward the parking lot. “That was inspired. A hilarious send-up of the lyrical intention of the original piece, if somewhat beside the point in that I’m not sure it was supposed to be about romance, as opposed to friendship.”

“Uh, thanks,” Finn said. “I mean, really – thanks for helping us pull that together, and getting those handcuffs and everything.”

“It was no problem. I knew right where they were because of the time you two locked me in the props closet and no one looked for me until after school. I have a categorical knowledge of exactly where all the props are stored. I was so bored that day.”

“Oh,” said Finn.

“Sorry,” said Puck, very softly.

“I would think so.” Kurt picked up his pace, leaving them behind.

Finn looked over at Puck. “See? Was that so bad?”

Puck shrugged. “I don’t think it helped all that much, either.”

Brittany bounced up between them, catching her skirt on their chain. “I totally messed this thing up,” she said happily.

“It doesn’t seem to be bothering you too much,” Finn said.

“No, because you guys rescued it. You came up with an idea and helped each other follow through. You make a really great team still, just like you used to. You have to be able to see that now, right? You’re like Bill and Hilary.”

“So… this whole trip down memory lane thing was supposed to make us remember all the great times we used to have,” Finn said.

“Um, duh.”

“Huh,” said Puck.

“ _So_ ,“ Brittany said. “Are things back to the way they were now?”

“No,” Finn said. “That’s not how it works. They’re still different.”

Puck looked openly crestfallen, and Finn felt like a coward.

“They’re better than they were before you did this, though,” he said. “Thanks, Brittany.”

“Any time,” she said with unnerving sincerity, and ran after Artie.

Puck nudged him. “Yeah?”

“Don’t push it.” Finn stared after most of the rest of New Directions. Quinn waved goodbye as she got into her car, and he waved back. Kurt was already gone. “You think Lauren would give us a ride to my house?”

“Probably, if she’s in the mood.” Puck swung his hand, chain clinking. “Been a while since I stayed over at your house.”

“Yeah.” Finn shrugged. “It’s cool.”

“That’s awesome, man.” They stood together, silent, for a while. Then Puck said, “Is your mom gonna think it’s cool?”

“Oh.” Finn sighed and started fishing for his phone. “You call Lauren, I’ll call Mom.”

“Hey, honey,” his mom said a few moments later. “How was your glee club thing?”

“It was really great! We had a lot of fun.” Santana, passing him on the way to her car alone, gave Finn a look. He turned away to protect himself; he wasn’t entirely sure what “the evil eye” was but he’d heard about it in a movie and he was pretty sure Santana had it. “So, Mom. Can Puck spend tonight at our house?”

“No,” she said, a little absently; computer keys clacked in the background. “If you want to work on that friendship again that’s fine, Finn, but it’s a school night.”

“Right… except Brittany handcuffed us together and we can’t have the key until tomorrow, so if we don’t sleep at our house we have to go to his, and I was really looking forward to that casserole thing you guys were making…”

Carole paused. “Your school just isn’t very normal, is it.”

“Not very.”

“Real handcuffs?”

Finn’s wrist ached. “They’re real.”

“Okay,” she sighed. “Sleepover it is.”

“You’re the best.”

“I know,” she said; she sounded warm, instead of pissed off, so that was good.

“We’re on,” Finn reported.

“And Lauren says she’ll drive us if you’ll talk to Kurt about being the costume designer for our sex tape when we turn eighteen,” Puck said. “Hey, do you think she could spend the night –?”

“Don’t push it,” Finn repeated.

“Well, let’s play _Mario_ all night then.”

Finn hesitated, then nodded. “If you’re prepared to be destroyed.”

“Like old times.”

Finn smiled. “Just like.”


End file.
